


Honest

by omgbrojen



Category: Football RPF
Genre: Angst, Angst and Porn, Established Relationship, Implied/Referenced Cheating, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-05
Updated: 2015-05-05
Packaged: 2018-03-29 05:46:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3884680
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/omgbrojen/pseuds/omgbrojen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Where have you been?” Erik’s voice is soft. Too soft, he expected anger.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Honest

**Author's Note:**

> i recommend listening to Honest by Kodaline

It’s 3 am in the morning. Marco walks through the door of his apartment and tosses his keys onto the side. He needn’t have bothered finding them; the door was already unlocked because Erik was over. He wonders what time his boyfriend had arrived and how long he’s been sat in the kitchen waiting from him.

Erik looks at him when he enters the kitchen but Marco pretends he doesn’t notice. He takes a cold beer from the fridge and pops the top. He swirls the cool liquid around his mouth, savouring the bitter flavour. Bitter like him. He laughs a little at that.

“Where have you been?” Erik’s voice is soft. Too soft, he expected anger.

Marco doesn’t answer him, takes another swig of his beer. He’s never been a lover of beer, much preferred spirits, but it’s the only alcohol he has to hand. Erik is the opposite, beer was just about the only thing he liked or could handle. Marco had taken to keeping a few in the fridge for when he came over.

Erik’s still looking at Marco expectantly, waiting for his answer. Marco didn’t have one. Not one that would make the situation better anyway. He looks at Erik for the first time since he came home. The room is dim, lit only by the moonlight but it’s enough to let Marco see the puffiness of his boyfriends eyes, the downward turn of his lips.

“Out with Auba.” Marco mutters, lying.

He knows Erik knows he’s lying. Auba will have been the first person Erik called when Marco wasn’t home or answering his calls. Again.

Erik’s quiet laugh in disbelief fills the silence. Marco can feel the guilt gnawing away at him, making him feel slightly nauseous.

“How long have you been here?” he asks finally.

“A while.” Erik replies; his voice is cold.

Marco feels the vibration of his phone in his pocket before it’s followed with the message tone. He notices the way Erik’s eyes seem to sadden. He takes the phone out of his pocket and checks the message; he already knows what it reads.

**_Tonight was fun [See-No-Evil monkey emoji]. See you sometime next week?_ **

He wasn’t stupid enough to save the number of the sender in his phone or retain any messages from it after he’d replied in the past. He supposes it doesn’t matter now though, the game was up.

“It’s just Auba.” Marco explains. Another lie; it was sad how easily they fell from his lips nowadays.

Erik doesn’t bother to call Marco out about it. Instead sighs and rubs his eyes. The pang of guilt in Marco’s stomach reappears.

“I’m going to bed. Are you coming?” Erik asks, but doesn’t wait for Marco’s answer.

Marco watches as Erik stands and leaves. It’s only then that he notices that his boyfriend had been wearing his jumper, the number eleven emblazoned on the front.

Marco remembers the first time Erik had worn that jumper of his. He’d come home from a trip to the cinema with Auba and found Erik curled up on the couch watching ridiculous reality TV, wearing only Marco’s jumper and white boxers. When Marco had asked why he was wearing it, Erik had told him it was because he had missed him.

He finishes the beer before he thinks about following Erik to bed, decides against it for now and opens another bottle. He sits at the island in the middle of the kitchen with his phone in front of him. If it’s any consolation, he thinks twice about sending the text.

**_Me too [Smug faced emoji]. I look forward to it ;-)_ **

He puts his phone onto silent and places it screen-down when the message has sent. The beer is helping to chase away a little of the guilt. Marco knows what he’s doing is wrong (he isn’t completely without a moral compass) but he doesn’t know how to stop. Doesn’t know whether he wants to.

The glaring red digits on the clock read 03:50 AM when he reaches the bottom of his third beer. He needed to sleep, they had training in the morning, and at the rate he was going he wouldn’t make it. The grogginess of sleep (and probably of beer on an empty stomach) is catching up with him and he rubs the palm of his hands into his eyes as he wanders down the corridor to bed.

When he enters the room he can see the outline of Erik’s body under the covers, his back to him. He tries to be quiet, so as not to wake Erik, but Marco is doubtful that he is even asleep. He knows that Erik tends to have trouble sleeping if he’s agitated or upset. Marco sheds his clothes, leaves on his underwear, and climbs into bed.

He lays facing Erik’s bare back and wishes instead that he was looking at his face. He wants to reach out and trace his fingers across the pale skin and wrap his arms around the slender waist of his boyfriend.

 The opportunity to do so is taken away from him when Erik turns over; the moonlight through the crack in the curtains illuminates his face, he looks ethereal. But Marco can see a sad look in his eyes and it shatters any illusion he might’ve had about them being happy.

To his surprise Erik lifts his hand and places it on his cheek, stroking soft circles with his thumb. Marco breathes in, nuzzles into Erik’s hand and closes his eyes. Erik moves his thumb over Marco’s lips and pries them apart, slips his thumb inside. Marco moans, bites softly down and runs his tongue over it.

“Come here baby.” Erik commands; his voice lacks the huskiness Marco is used to in these situations.

Marco still obliges and shifts so that he straddles Erik’s waist. Erik pushes his thumb into the hilt and Marco sucks at it eagerly. He rests his forehead to Erik’s as he does and looks into his eyes; there’s nothing there, they completely lack their usual fire and passion.

Marco is about to stop and ask to talk Erik about everything, to tell him how desperately sorry he is and beg for forgiveness but Erik sets about removing his boxers. Marco takes the hint and removes Erik’s too. Marco’s cock is hard from the finger biting alone; he’s always been mad about biting and sucking. He can feel the hardening of Erik’s cock on his ass and makes a point of grinding against it, drawing a grunt from Erik.

Erik removes his thumb from Marco’s mouth, much to Marco’s disappointment. He’s fished the bottle of the lube they kept from the bedside table and pressed it into Marco’s hand. They altered their position so that Erik’s legs were spread wide and Marco was knelt between them as he lathered up his fingers, but he refrained from using them just yet.

Instead he lowered his mouth to the inside of Erik’s thighs and began to kiss his way up each. He spent extra time in certain places, making a point of biting and sucking at the skin so that he would leave his mark. Erik had moaned when he’d done so, his hand drifting to his own cock and beginning to tug at it.

When he was pleased that he was going to leave numerous hickeys on Erik’s skin he set his attention to that ass of his. He forgets about the lube on his fingers for the time being, decides he’ll use his mouth instead. Hooking an arm around his boyfriend’s waist he props him up slightly, allowing easier access to the goal. He licks an experimental strip from the entrance of Erik’s ass to his balls and feels Erik jerk slightly, hears him choke out a moan.

He returns to the entrance, satisfied that Erik’ll love it, and covers it with his mouth. He laps at the rim hungrily, feels Erik lock his legs behind Marco’s head. He prods his tongue inside and teases the hole, ensuring he gets as much saliva as possible in there. Erik clenches when Marco’s tongue enters, writhes under Marco’s work and moans aloud. When he’s satisfied that he’s done all he can with his mouth (by Erik’s moans he’d say he’s done a pretty decent job) he moves away, Erik’s legs drop either side of him, and he licks at the saliva that’s dripping down his chin and lathers his fingers and cock with lube. He wants to ensure Erik’s as loose as possible, doesn’t want to hurt him anymore than he has to or anymore than Erik wants.

Erik’s already loose enough for two fingers, maybe three, but Marco errs on the side of caution and sticks with two. He slides his index and middle fingers into Erik with little resistance and they’ve done this so many times before that finding the younger man’s prostate is second nature. When he brushes against the spot Erik’s hands tangle themselves in Marco’s hair and he pulls roughly as he bucks up.

Marco gasps when Erik pulls on his hair, he loves it. Spurred on by Erik’s arousal (and his own) he slips a third finger inside him and works him looser. When Erik starts to tighten his grip on Marco’s hair and breath heavily Marco knows he’s ready. When he removes his fingers he can’t help but put them in his own mouth, relishing the taste of his boyfriend. It takes two seconds of eye contact while Marco sucks on his own fingers for Erik to drag him up by the hair and smash their lips together.

“Fuck me already.” Erik commands, his voice a husky whisper.

Marco doesn’t have to be told twice. He uses his left hand to hoist Erik’s leg onto his shoulder and grant himself a better angle. His other hand grips Erik’s waist and the knuckles whiten as he slips inside him all the way to the hilt. Erik locks his arms around Marco’s neck and pulls him closer so that their lips meet again. Erik’s biting and sucking on Marco’s lips so heavily that he knows that they’re going to be swollen later, maybe even bleed a little. He didn’t mind at all.

“Fuck me like it’s the last time you’ll get to.” Erik says when they draw for breath.

He obliges. Satisfied that Erik can take it and encouraged, even, by his words Marco picks up the pace of his thrusts. There’s no real rhythm to them, he’s letting his primal instinct go and doing whatever feels the best to do. Erik doesn’t seem to have any complaints, not with the way he’s whimpering into Marco’s mouth as they kiss. He knows he’s hit that sweet spot when Erik bucks unexpectedly and cries out.

Erik stops the fight for dominance they’re having with their lips and gives his attention to Marco’s neck. He begins to bite and suck in the crook between the jaw and neck, drifts all the way down and marks him at the base of his neck and then peppers the love bites all across his collarbone. How exactly Marco will explain those away to the team and press he doesn’t know. Right now he doesn’t care.

He can feel himself reaching his climax, a combination of the way Erik’s clenching around his cock and biting on his neck means he won’t last long at all. He knows Erik’s close too by the way he’s tightening and reaching down to pump his own cock.

Erik comes first, releases himself all over his own fingers and abdomen. His entire body shakes as he orgasms, his hands fisted into Marco’s hair. He’s unable to control the moans which ring loudly around the room. Marco continues throughout it, finds his release a short time after Erik’s. The only reason his moans are stifled is because he bites down into Erik’s neck as his body trembles.

He moves himself from atop Erik, instead wraps his arms around his boyfriend and rests his head in the crook of his neck as he comes down, places a tender kiss to the bruised skin.

“Happy Anniversary Marco.” He hears Erik whisper, there’s something odd about his voice. “That was the last time. I won’t be here in the morning.”

**Author's Note:**

> i know i said i had exams but like i thought of this and i had to write it like yeah, hope u enjoy!! this is like my first ever properly erotic thing so yeah


End file.
